Snowdrift
by Sassenach082
Summary: Stranded angels are both a blessing and a curse, especially in the frozen wasteland of a Wyoming winter. One-shot. Dean/Castiel humor, no slash. "Another Life" verse, but you don't need to have read it to understand.


Author's Note: Gotta love those friends for their crazy ideas…. ;) This, yet again, is inspired by the rather interesting discussions my group has at lunch every day. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: All belongs to Kripke...I'm just borrowing them.

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**Snowdrift  
**by Sassenach082  
("Another Life" verse)

Dean zipped up his jacket the rest of the way to guard against the frigid Wyoming winter, stomping his feet to get feeling back in his toes. Goddamn, but it was cold. He pulled up his hood and cursed Sam for his rock-paper-scissors victory, patting the horses on the neck as he made his way down the barn isle towards the doors, and to his dismay, the waiting frozen world on the other side of them. With one final sigh, he picked up the now-empty pail he'd used to feed the horses in his hand and pulled open the barn door, stepping into the Iceland beyond.

The Wyoming winter landscape was blindingly white, the sky a clear and cloudless blue, for once. The three-day blizzard that had raged war upon them had finally died out. He mused with an amused smile that he'd almost forgotten what blue looked like, what with being surrounded by a raging cloud of angry gray nonstop for days. It was nice to see the sun again, even if it was so damn cold he felt like his nose was going to freeze off.

Sighing, he gripped the rope and started walking, knocking a thin layer of snow off the top as he walked towards the house. The rope was held by poles, and during winter, connected the house to the barn so that in a blizzard, they wouldn't get lost in the confusing blindness of the whipping snow and die from the cold.

Halfway across his currently frozen wasteland of a yard–not even the birds were out, oh no, just his poor sorry ass–his phone rang. He set his bucket beside his boot, cussed loudly, and sucked in a deep breath to groan. He would have to unzip his snow jacket to get to his pants pocket to answer his phone.

"But it's _cold_!" he whined to no one in particular. With a final groan, he winced in apprehension and unzipped his jacket, sucking in a startled breath as the blast of frigid air hit him like a freight train. Whoever the asshole is, they'd better be dying…

Finally, his fingers were able to tug his phone free, awkward in his big snow gloves. Somehow, he got it open and held it up to his ear. "_WHAT_?" he growled, far beyond annoyed as he hurriedly zipped his jacket back up and jumped up and down on the spot in a futile attempt to return warmth to his frozen appendages.

"What is all of this white…stuff?"

Dean's eyebrows shot up, almost not believing his ears. "Castiel?" He looked around, expecting to find him beside a snowdrift somewhere, but didn't see him. "Where the hell are you?"

"I…don't know." The angel sighed, and when he talked again, he sound like a lost little puppy. "But I'm stuck."

He palmed his face. Oh, of all the times to decide to be clueless. "What do you mean, stuck? Elaborate."

"In this white stuff."

"Snow, Cas. It's called _snow_."

"It's wet."

Despite his foul mood, Dean forced himself not to laugh at the comment. "Where _are _you?" he repeated, looking around wildly for any sign of him.

"Here."

"WHERE here?"

"I mean, HERE!"

Dean jumped slightly and turned to his left, where the angel's voice echoed over the snow, somewhere off in the pasture. "Great," he muttered, and kissing any possibility of warmth aside, started fighting through the snow to his friend.

"Hurry up," Castiel said loudly, directing Dean better along his path, both through the phone and the sound of his voice.

"Going as fast as I can, Cas, we can't all teleport to freaking anywhere, you know," he huffed in reply, wincing as the moisture started sinking into his boots and pants. The annoyed human took two more steps before pausing and staring down at the hard-packed now, dumbfounded by what he saw.

Castiel was sat Indian style, arms folded over his chest, expression disgruntled as he looked up at Dean. Damn, he was sunk at least eight feet into the snowdrift, in a perfect little crater-type hole, the snow melted away so that he was seated in a patch of lush, bright green grass. As he watched, a daisy popped out of the ground beside the angel's knee.

"Dude," Dean said, trying not to laugh. "What the hell happened?"

"It melted," Castiel snapped, pouting.

"Melted?"

"Can you get me out?" He flapped his hands in demonstration.

"Magic word?" Dean requested, eyebrow raised, smirk tilting his lips.

"What magic word?" Castiel tiled his head to the side to regard the human, his blue eyes narrowed slightly in confusion.

"Never mind," he sighed, reaching down to haul him up. "How did that even happen, anyway? Why couldn't you just poof your way out of there?"

"To answer the first question, my temperature spikes to…uh, inhuman levels while I'm in my vessel. Angels statistically have much higher temperatures than humans, due to our grace," Castiel explained, brushing himself off. "And as for the second, transporting here took away most of my energy. Transporting myself again so soon would have been too dangerous. Ever since heaven cut me off, I've had to be more…careful with my energy reserves."

"Oh, right."

Castiel peered suspiciously at his surroundings. "So what is all of this…white stuff?"

"Snow," Dean repeated, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, I got that, but…why is it _wet_?"

"Because it's frozen water." He grabbed the angel and started dragging him down the path towards the ranch house.

"Well, father was out of his mind," the angel muttered. "I don't know why _anyone_ would want this. It's unpleasant."

Dean grinned, not disagreeing. They walked along in silence, Dean's teeth chattering together. He crossed his arms and attempted to hold heat in his core, knowing she would have a hot shower waiting for him in the house.

"Um, Dean?"

"W-w-w-w-what?" he stuttered as his teeth clacked together.

"Your face is turning blue."

"No shit."

Castiel sighed, and before Dean could stop him, reached out and tapped the index and middle finger of his right hand against his forehead. Dean's head spun sickeningly, his knees buckled, and his gag reflex kicked into overdrive for the split second it took for them to suddenly appear in his kitchen with an explosion of snow and frigid outside air.

The kitchen was warm, thank God, but Dean groaned mournfully, looking out the window at the pathway. There, in its center, mocking him, was the silver pail.

"Damn it," he whined. "I forgot my pail!"

Castiel tiled his head sideways, blue eyes inquisitive.

"What's a pail?"

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-Fin-

What do you think? Cute, lame? Amusing?

I love Castiel! His cluelessness is so adorable… ;)

**PLEASE REVIEW!  
**I want to know if I should continue these oneshots!


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